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Posts Tagged ‘tyke’

No amount of words can bridge

the distance of years in silence-

because the sun hides its face

like the way a tyke, fatherless

and left out into the world

to fend for himself. Alone.

 

Someone has to refuse

to become the victim anymore.

You knock some doors

and it is locked. You are not

welcome there. And a hand

is restrained to touch his own

 

shadow or an image reflected

a life mirrored in water.

Disowned molting who just

learned its first flight

and give ambled wings

to shattered dreams.

 

Of the smell of gunpowder.

The handprints on paperbills

and the bitter taste of wine.

None of which represents

your true bone stripped of flesh.

An animal with no redemption-

heartless and chained.

 

You will refuse to let the past

define you of who you will become.

 

And you begin the journey

to a place of faceless and nameless

strangers. You will exist

as though you just have lived

and strip down the shadow

as an old clothing. Naked and free

shimmering like a newborn child.

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I can feel it now across this table

in the old diner of this no man’s land,

The sound of shuffling deck of cards.

Or is it the leaves in autumn falling

in September- that he will remember?

 

Do you know what it feels like

to be buried in cans and tins of paint,

blurring away the sun, moon and the stars?

The distance masked from the past

drowned in ebbs and crests of time.

 

He searches his soul among the shambles,

the printed letters fading on the pocketbook.

I sense the mad rhythms and cadences

of cursives and scribbles in melancholy.

The dead poet speaks uneasy like this.

 

He seems to be trapped. A vagabond.

A tyke on his cell who think he’s free.

Swimming away like a salmon

undisturbed by the changing seasons,

lost in migration to the new world.

 

He traded a king of hearts

and settles for a jack of spades.

The wind is rough, blowing in with sand.

This is not the gentle breeze of the prairie.

A tune. Unfamiliar, humming in my ear.

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